210 ornithologist's text-book. ivy wren. 



nest — like a house built on the sand — fell to pieces. 

 It was lined with horse hair and a few feathers. 

 One that I once saw in a pear tree against the wall, 

 was composed of the usual materials. It frequently 

 builds also in the hollow and clefts of trees, or in 

 banks, where the entrance is often so small as 

 scarcely to admit even an Ivy Wren, and such 

 situations generally conceal the snug little tene- 

 ment from the keen eyes and merciless claws of 

 the truant schoolboy. 



But perhaps the most remarkable locality of the 

 nest of this bird, which has fallen under my ob- 

 servation, was inside that of a Chimney Swallow 

 (Hirwida urbicaj, under the eaves of a roof. It 

 had evidently contained young, but these had 

 escaped when the double nest was dislodged, to- 

 wards the latter end of April. I have frequently 

 seen this remarkable specimen, and, if I remember 

 rightly, an account of it has lately appeared in the 

 Magazine of Natural History, but I cannot at 

 present refer to the exact place. There was no- 

 thing remarkable about the materials or structure 

 of the nest ; the marvel consisting in its extraordi- 

 nary situation. In other instances, I have known 

 it build under the thatch of hay stacks, where it 

 was composed of the usual green moss, but mixed 

 with hay, and sparingly lined with feathers. The 

 whole is well concealed from view, being covered 

 over with stalks of hay, without which precaution 

 it would be a very conspicuous object. Twice also 

 have I found it in hay-lofts, amongst heaps of fag- 

 gots, and other wood collected for winter use. 

 Both of these nests came to a singularly unhappy 

 fate. In one, the usual number of eggs was laid, 

 and, just when the female was on the point of 

 hatching, the loft happened to be shut up for seve- 

 ral days together ; and as, moreover, there was no 

 hole large enough to allow even an Ivy Wren to 



